Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) by Laylah Roberts Page B

past me, go to your bedroom and we’ll forget this conversation ever happened. But if you want me like I want you then kiss me, damn it.”
    Her words were tough, but he could see a glimpse of vulnerability in her gaze, in the way she’d hunched her shoulders as though expecting him to reject her.
    He could never reject her.
    “I want you,” he told her.
    Her eyes flared and she took a step towards him. Rogan held a hand up to still her. “But I won’t do anything to scare you. It’s only been a week. You need to recover.”
    “What I need is for you to take me to bed and fuck me. I’ve talked it all through with my therapist and yeah, I’ve had a few bad moments since I was attacked. But the bastard is dead. He can’t hurt me. So kiss me.”
    He stared at her lips, wanting her desperately.
    “It’s not easy for me to ask and if you turn me down, then I’ll have to find some hole to crawl into and die of embarrassment. I want you. I need you. You won’t hurt me or scare me. I need to be touched. Please don’t make me beg.”
    Unable to resist her—he was no saint—he leaned in and kissed her.
    “You’re sure?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    Lifting her up into his arms, he moved out of the room to the stairs.
    “Wow, you can move fast when you’re motivated,” she said with a grin.
    Entering her bedroom, he placed her gently on the bed. Taking a step back, he undid the buttons on his shirt. “This is a bad idea. You’re my ward.”
    “This isn’t the eighteen hundreds and I’m a grown woman. I know what I want and it’s you.”
    “I should turn you away, but I’m not strong enough.” He stripped off his pants and boxers.
    Miller’s eyes widened, the admiration on her face enough to make any man feel ten feet tall.
    “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
    He raised his eyebrows. “I believe that should be my line.”
    “No, I’m nowhere near as beautiful as you. You’re magnificent.” Her gaze dropped to his cock. “And huge.”
    “Touch me,” he whispered.
    Reaching out, she touched him tentatively.
    “Harder, he won’t bite.”
    “Does he have a name?”
    Now that was the most bizarre question he’d ever been asked in the bedroom, and he’d been asked a few.
    “No.”
    “I’m going to call him Quincy.”
    “You are not going to call my dick Quincy.” His breath caught as she grew bolder, running her hand up and down his length.
    “Richard?”
    “No.”
    “Hunter?”
    He snorted out a laugh. “No, and stop making me laugh.”
    “I like making you laugh. You don’t do it often enough.”
    He had little to joke about.
    “Enough. You’ll make me come.” He gently drew her hand away.
    “Isn’t that the idea? Or is there no coming during sex either?”
    Rogan shook his head then lay next to her, slowly drawing her T-shirt up her body. He ran his fingers over her silken legs.
    “There’s no coming before you do.”
    “How generous of you.” Her breath quickened as he pushed her shirt up to her belly.
    “No panties?” he asked in a strangled voice. Her pussy was waxed. Completely bare. He brushed a finger over the top of her mound. “When did you do this?”
    “Natalya talked me into it. I was beginning to look like Sasquatch down there.”
    He snorted. Had he ever laughed this much during sex? No, because sex wasn’t fun. It was all about fulfilling a need. He got laid, thanked the woman then said a quick good-bye. No attachments, no feelings, no ties.
    Just the way he liked it.
    Until now.
    He ran his finger between her slick lips. “You’re wet.”
    “Duh. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m turned on. Isn’t that the point?”
    “How many naked men have you seen?” He worked hard to control his jealousy.
    “Eric Northman sunbathing naked is going to be forever etched in my mind.”
    “Miller,” he growled.
    “I’m not a virgin, Rogan. I’ve slept with a few men. None of them could hold a candle to you.”
    He was acting